


I've Got You (In Love and Bondage)

by Lemonandpie



Series: Taking Care of You [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: (Due to the fictional medical conditions), Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Fingering, Biologically Necessary Submission, Dom Foggy Nelson, Dubious Consent, Dubious Science, Fictional Medical Conditions, Getting Together, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson at Columbia, Multi, Pining, Spanking, Subdrop, Subspace, gentle dom foggy nelson, sub matt murdock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemonandpie/pseuds/Lemonandpie
Summary: Foggy Nelson is a Dom. A great Dom. A sweet and loving Dom who just wants to take care of everyone he meets. Which would be fine if his roommate was a little less of a disaster and a little more willing to be coddled.(AU where everyone is biologically a Dom or a Sub)
Relationships: Franklin "Foggy" Nelson/Original Male Character(s), Matt Murdock/Elektra Natchios (mentioned), Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Series: Taking Care of You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732525
Comments: 47
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this happened, but it did happen, and apparently a 40k series isn't allowed to just sit on your hard drive gathering dust. 
> 
> This is a fic in that grand and time honored tradition of BDSM AUs. For the unfamiliar, a BDSM AU is similar to A/B/O AUs except everyone is a Dom or a Sub and Subspace and Subdrop are biological. And also a fic in the time honored tradition of 'Foggy Nelson is the world's gentlest Dom and gives Matt orgasms and a jolly good spanking'. Personally, I find the world is permanently lacking in both and hope you all enjoy my contribution to the cause.

People were always surprised when they found out Foggy was a Dom. He was bubbly, loud, and liked to indulge in… pretty much everything. One girl in school, Cassandra, had outright cooed over him before he had set the record straight. They had still dated, for quite a while too because Doms or not they still liked the same things, could chat for hours, and, well, Foggy could eat out like a champ. But in their senior year she had met the daintiest Sub Foggy had ever met, and they were good enough friends that Foggy had not only stood aside, but convinced the two of them to actually get their heads out of their behinds and go on a proper date.

Cass and Dan had gotten married their first year of undergrad. Foggy officiated.

He supposed he could see why people thought he wasn’t Dom material-- he was a caretaker, first and foremost. All of his life he was looking after people, whether it was making sure the baby Nelsons were fed before heading off to school, or offering himself as a human pillow for when his friends needed to take naps, he always wanted to keep people happy and healthy. Even his parents had been surprised when he got a shiny ‘D’ after going to the Doctor for his yearly checkup. 

The thing was that it wasn’t that Foggy _wanted_ to take care of everyone, but that he _would_ take care of everyone. End of story.

Okay, that made him sound pushy. But when he had talked it over with Jo, she had said how serving always made her feel like she was being good, being useful. That she was showing her love every time she made her Domme happy. And that was definitely part of it, for Foggy. He loved the little smile people gave him when he would do things for them. But, Jo had admitted, there were times that she felt nervous. She preferred to be told how best to serve, to make sure she never did it wrong. Foggy didn’t need to be told what to do to take care of people-- he knew. And while he did like the warm and fuzzies it gave him when he helped someone, he also felt like he was claiming them. Just a bit.

Plus, it got him hard like nobody’s business.

(Once, he had brought an extra jam roll to school because he knew Rebecca would always sleep in and forget to bring anything. She had beamed when he gave it to her, but when she bit into it she moaned just the tiniest bit. This light and breathy sound. Foggy had all but come in his pants on the spot. And then they’d hid in a bathroom stall and rutted against each other. She had still had jam on her fingers.)

So yeah, Foggy Nelson. Dom. Proud of it, too, by the time he got to college. Sure, he sometimes got the piss taken out of him by Doms who thought the only way they could dominate someone was by shouting at some poor Sub and then choking them on their dick. Foggy had heard plenty of complaints about those kinds of Doms. People always left the bed of Foggy Nelson as completely satisfied customers. (Even Marci, who was just as much of a Domme as he was. Hell, that was what made the sex so good. Nothing like two Doms going head to head in a fierce debate and then banging in the closet after.)

There was just one problem with Foggy being a Dom. A Dom whose ‘I will take care of you’ policies extended to everyone, regardless of dynamic. And that was that his roommate, best friend, basically-family-except-I-want-to-make-you-come-so-hard-you-cry, was a complete and utter _mess_.

A _mess_.

Matt Murdock put on a good show. He was always put together, especially as he got older and could start affording clothes that actually fit him instead of whatever the orphanage got given. He was confident, sarcastic, charming to the point of flirtatious. He was organised, and focused, and kept their dorm room to militaristic precisions of neatness. To everyone in the world, Matt Murdock was the perfect Dom (after a few months at Columbia, people had even stopped putting in a ‘blind’ caveat). 

Foggy wasn’t sure what dynamic Matt was. Based solely on his public persona, he would have said Dom, no question. But the thing was that Foggy didn’t just see Matt’s public persona. Foggy and Matt lived in a cramped room, had almost all the same classes, and spent most of their free time hanging out as well. Sure, they had tried to act like they were guests in each other’s boudoirs but that stopped the moment Foggy drank too much and vomited on their carpet. (Matt had held his hair back. Foggy tried not to think of it as ‘the moment he fell in love’. Mostly because he wasn’t in love, and even if he was he wasn’t the type of person to fall in love mid-puke). 

No, Matt put on a good show. But once they developed a report, Matt sat Foggy down and told him that there would be some days where Foggy would have to drag Matt out of bed, especially if Matt protested. They had only had a couple of those, but they had made Foggy’s heart break even if he got why Matt made him do it (they had multiple professors who took attendance. Matt wasn’t going to let his grades drop for anything, even severe depression). There was also the terrible eating habits, sleeping habits, rampant self-loathing, etc. And Foggy had definitely seen Matt have panic attacks. Sure, Matt could deny as much as he wanted but those were 100 percent panic attacks.

So, maybe Matt was a Dom with mental health issues. Happened all the time.

But Foggy had some suspicions. In fairness, most of them were about the general quality of Matt’s life-- one time, walking back to the dorms in freeze-your-nose-off weather, Foggy had stopped at the organic place that neither of them could really afford to go to but was the cafe Matt liked the best. He had bought himself a hot chocolate (and had gone ‘ooh!’ when he found out it came with marshmallows) and had gotten a chai for Matt, because Matt always breathed a little deeper when a batch was brewing before ordering himself a black coffee, sometimes a latte if he was feeling lavish. Foggy had come back to the dorm and placed the hot drink and a cookie the size of his head on Matt’s desk. Matt hadn’t been able to talk without swallowing repeatedly, and even though it had been months Matt still hadn’t thrown out the cup. That was not the reaction of someone who had had someone do something for them since, say, their Dad was brutally and horrifically murdered when they were ten. 

Even looking passed Matt’s ‘I deserve nothing’ lifestyle, though, there were some… things. Foggy was a tactile guy, and Matt was a touch starved baby bird. Cuddles happened frequently. And when they did, Matt would always sink a little deeper into the hug than Foggy would expect. Sometimes he would preen if Foggy were to play with his hair. One time, Matt had fallen asleep while Foggy narrated _Home Alone 2_ , and he had decided the comfiest position was for him to have his head all in Foggy’s lap. Just, all in there. 

Maybe Matt was a Dom. Maybe he was a Sub. And really, it wasn’t Foggy’s business seeing as Matt clearly wanted to keep it on the down low. But regardless of his dynamic, Matt’s inherent disbelief in his own worth made Foggy’s instincts go into overdrive. He just wanted Matt to be safe, and happy, and healthy, and loved, and he wanted this at all times. 

Matt just didn’t seem to agree.

\---

Foggy… didn’t like Elektra. If he was to be perfectly honest, he hated her. It had been a lot of little things at first. Foggy was hurt that Matt had abandoned him at the party, but Matt was a raised-by-nuns Catholic boy who Foggy had never even heard masturbate, not even as a stress relief which they both desperately needed. So who was he to fault his boy for letting off some steam? Plus, Elektra was _painfully_ hot. Of course, Foggy had only met her once and she had all but wiped her hand after he shook it. But even aside from her face, and her body, and her _accent oh sweet heaven_ , she was just a woman who exuded sex. Especially when she was nibbling on her boyfriend’s (who was Foggy’s best friend first thank you very much) ear.

Foggy got it. 

But the thing was that Elektra was… uncomfortable. Yeah, she was a Domme with a capital D, the kind who made sure even other Doms would lick her feet. But on the rare occasions he saw her and Matt interact she was kind of possessive. Like Matt was her favourite toy and no one else was allowed to play. And she actively encouraged him to not sleep, not eat, and binge through more alcohol than Foggy had seen _anyone_ drink. And Foggy was at college! She would never come for Matt, either, would never visit him at their dorms or anywhere on campus. No, she made Matt come to her. Always. Seriously, she demanded _all_ of his time.

(Marci said he was jealous. For a while, he had almost agreed.)

But then Matt started skipping classes. His depression-proof attendance record plummeted, and even when he was there he turned up hungover and sleep deprived. He was over the moon, always, even after finding out he had only just scraped a 95 percent on a test. The Matt Foggy knew would never have been able to do that. Foggy wanted to think Matt was just happy. He knew that wasn’t it.

Part of his dynamic psych course was to do a stint of volunteering at the Dynamic Health Clinic. Foggy had loved it, most of the time, and had even signed up to do more even after he got the credits. But he had seen some things there. Things like people who came in with dopey looks on their faces, their brains flooded with endorphins and all those other chemicals that made you feel like you were flying.

 _“It’s a pleasure flood,”_ his supervisor had said. _“When someone’s dynamic regulating centers of the brain are overstimulated. It often happens on a small scale between couples in particularly intense phases of the relationship. Newlywed Syndrome is usually the result of mutual pleasure floods. When your partner is also experiencing it, it usually balances each other out. If one partner is receiving the entirety of the pleasure flood, however, they can seem to be in almost drugged or manic state.”_

_“Why would only one partner get the pleasure flood?”_

_“There’s a whole bunch of reasons. A chemical imbalance in the brain, especially when combined with certain forms of mental illness, can lead to one partner experiencing a pleasure flood. Inexperience, sometimes. Quite often it can result from a difference in emotional investment-- we get a lot of people come in with pleasure floods because they are in love with their partner, but their partner is not in love with them and therefore doesn’t reach the same levels of pleasure. There are, however, cases where it was... intentional. A pleasure flood is a very easy way to keep a person pliant. Devoted.”_

_“What happens when the pleasure flood is over?”_ Foggy had asked, glancing at the woman in their waiting room. Her friend’s arm was around her shoulders, and she was staring at nothing Foggy could see. His supervisor had sighed.

_“Sometimes they just come down naturally. Therapeutic procedures may need to be introduced. Or they Drop, severely.”_

The less Matt was around, the more Foggy worried. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t know Elektra, and that she was probably flying as high as Matt was. It was an intense relationship, enough that Foggy half expected them to turn up one day after getting married in Vegas. Matt had even admitted it was his first relationship. Foggy tried to convince himself that he wasn’t seeing the signs.

But his fears had proven correct when he got a call at four am, from a distraught Matt apologising profusely, but that he was upstate with no money and no way of getting home. It was when he asked for help, in a small whisper, that Foggy realised the severity of the situation. The cab had cost an arm and a leg, and he had found Matt on the side of the road, shivering to the death in only a thin button down. Even with the glasses, Foggy could tell Matt had been crying. He didn’t give Matt the chance to say anything, just wrapped his arms around him and bundled him into the back of the cab. He had held Matt the entire way to the dorms, then held him as they walked to their room, then helped Matt change into some pajamas and helped him into Foggy’s bed so he could hold Matt while he slept. 

Matt hadn’t been able to wait until Foggy could pretend to be asleep-- it started with sniffs, and then Foggy felt hot liquid coming down on the pillow. And then it turned into stifled sobs, the kind where you had to actively kill the noise to keep it from coming out. Foggy had done all the things that he knew Matt liked, holding him so tight he felt like he could feel the creak of Matt’s ribs and playing with his hair, and he had let Matt cry.

To make matters worse, the next morning it was all over the news that Roscoe Sweeney had finally been arrested. Foggy hoped it was a coincidence. Matt had gone out that night, no matter how much Foggy protested, and he had gone alone, no matter how much Foggy had begged to go with him. 

Matt didn’t come back until two in the morning, and when he did he had the distinct walk of someone who had just been fucked so hard they were in pain. He didn’t even seem to have the energy to hide himself, just pulled off his clothes so Foggy got a full view of the welts that covered his skin.

“Matt…” Foggy breathed, and Matt stopped after pulling on some pants. He seemed to be waiting for something. Foggy wanted to cry, and scream, but he knew that just because he wasn’t a sadist didn’t mean other people couldn’t enjoy it. So he regressed to what he knew. “Put some salve on that, it looks painful.”

Matt had nodded, and had actually followed the instructions. Or maybe they were orders.

\---

Things actually managed to settle down, after that. Foggy had dragged Matt to the Nelson family home for the holiday season, and Matt was now a fully fledged family member, Christmas sweater and everything. His parents had all but drawn up adoption papers. Matt had had to work his butt off even more than he already was to make up for his drop in grades, but he managed it, somehow. Selfish as it felt, Foggy was glad to have his friend back.

They had gone completely back to normal. Well. Sorta. Pretty normal. A solid 98 percent return to normalcy. Totally normal. So what if, sometimes, Foggy would be a little extra liberal with the doting. It didn’t matter that one time Matt got distracted and Foggy had to stop him from walking into a pole by grabbing him by the wrist, and afterwards they had just stood there, Matt’s pulse thunderous under Foggy’s fingertips. And, okay, there was that one time at Marci’s birthday when there were no seats so Matt plonked himself down in Foggy’s lap. 

It was totally normal.

Except it wasn’t, though. Because as much as Foggy believed it didn’t change things, it kind of did. Matt was a Sub. Matt was a Sub who had been pleasure flooded, and ever since had most definitely been going to sex clubs. He sure as hell hadn’t been dating. Foggy wasn’t going to judge his bestie’s life choices, but every time Matt walked out that door Foggy wanted to take Matt over his knee and give him the world’s gentlest spanking, followed by eight toe curling orgasms and some cuddles while they devoured cheap cake. 

Foggy had to be extra careful. He was terrified that he was going to slip, that he was going to push Matt a bit too far. Foggy had always prided himself on his control, but when they were at a party and he found himself being hit on by a Sub named Ryan, who didn’t even look like Matt, he ended up not only fucking Ryan into the mattress, he also managed to somehow send him so deep into subspace he was still a little dopey come morning. And the worst part of that was that Foggy took one look at the Sub he had sent under, and then brought back up, and felt so _damn_ good.

And that night he had imagined that it was Matt who he had pushed to his knees. Matt who he had encouraged while the Sub drank down his cock until it hit the back of their throat, just because it felt good to do it. Matt who he had fingered until he was sobbing. Matt who he had kissed come morning, and fed, and unlike with Ryan this wouldn’t end with them saying goodbye. 

When Foggy came, he couldn’t stop the guttural moan of Matt’s name from escaping him. Panting as he rode the aftershocks, he hoped that Matt was still asleep. Hoped that he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this all in one go and then realised it had to be broken up somehow, so the ending is a little weird. Oh well. 
> 
> Next time: Emotions! Hugs in the shower! And angst!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's up for some angst?!
> 
> Edit: There is a section where Matt is showing trauma after a Scene has gone badly wrong. It is not explicitly discussed or shown in any way but it is essentially the aftermath of sexual assault even if no one realises that's what is going on. Matt also reacts sexually to a non-sexual act during this aftermath. If this is subject matter you aren't comfortable with, please skip from 'Foggy didn’t _worry_ about Matt going to those clubs' to 'Foggy was a pro at aftercare' (basically the entire second section). I was unsure about tagging for it because it isn't explicit, but I'm deciding to err on the side of caution.

Second year was an absolute nightmare. They were drowning in coursework. Marci and Foggy had broken up for good, Marci citing Foggy’s “so obvious it’s embarrassing” feelings for Matt. And yeah, maybe Foggy had a bit more than a crush. Maybe he spent every night dreaming of Matt and waking up so hard it felt like there was a brick between his legs. Maybe he tucked Matt into bed one night and didn’t get any sleep because he was too busy memorising every part of Matt’s face.

Fuck, Foggy was in love with Matt.

Matt wasn’t doing good either. His grades had come back for their first year as great, but not perfect. His stint with Elektra had made a noticeable impact, one that proved Matt could totally get away with being one of those assholes who never studied but still ended up near the top of the class. But that wasn’t Matt. So Matt was working himself even harder, and he seemed to have a handle on it until he got a 98 percent. Near perfect. Not perfect. Matt went out again that night.

And then a couple of months later, he went out again.

Then a couple of weeks.

Then every week.

Then two nights in a row.

Then--

“I’m going out,” Matt said, his voice dull. He went to grab his coat, but his movements were so stiff he could barely get it on.

“No, you’re not,” Foggy said. Matt froze, already turned towards the door. His arms were still raised while he had tried to get them through his sleeves. “Not tonight, Matt.”

Matt whined like a wounded animal. It made Foggy’s heart clench.

“Please, Foggy. I-- I need to--”

“Four nights this week, Matt. If you go, it will be four nights this week. Your body can’t handle it.” Foggy walked forward and placed his hand on Matt’s shoulder. Matt sank into the touch. Not for the first time, Foggy worried about how much aftercare Matt was getting.

“I can’t focus,” Matt said quietly. “It’s like my body is underwater but my brain is on fire. It’s all too much but I’m not really here at all.”

“Are you not going under?” Foggy asked. Matt shrugged.

“I sink a little. But I don’t… submerge. I come back up again.”

“Can I help?” Matt turned his head, his brow furrowed. “I mean, whatever they’re doing clearly doesn’t work. Let me try tonight, okay? Give yourself enough time to heal before you let them… impale you on a nail bed or something.”

Matt snorted, but didn’t relax. “I’m not an easy Sub, Fog.”

“You’re not an easy anything, buddy.” Foggy reached up and helped Matt slowly remove his jacket. “Quite frankly, you’re going to make me an old man before my time. But I can’t think of anything I want to do more than figure you out.”

Foggy hung Matt’s coat on the hook. Matt wrapped his arms around himself, trying to mimic the tight hold he loved. Foggy reached forward and wrapped his arms around Matt as well, squeezing Matt tighter than he could do to himself.

“What do you need, Matt?” Foggy asked. He could feel Matt’s breath against his cheek. Hear him swallow.

“Hold me? Please?”

“Of course,” Foggy said, holding Matt as tight as he could. They stood in the middle of their room like that, their cheeks resting against each other. Eventually, Matt raised his arms and wrapped them around Foggy’s shoulders. They stood there for hours.

\---

Foggy didn’t _worry_ about Matt going to those clubs. Matt was a grown boy who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. That didn’t change just because Matt was blind, or a Sub, or had a penchant for reckless and self destructive behavior. It certainly didn’t change because Foggy was in love with him. Matt just tended to go out on nights when Foggy would stay up late, like when he had a paper due or found a new show to stream that he just couldn’t stop watching. 

So what if Foggy would keep an eye on the clock, watching it tick by and imagining what strangers with no screening process and fuck knows how many infectious diseases were doing to the love of his life. It wasn’t distracting at all. 

The knock came at three am. It was probably someone drunk and hunting for more booze, or stoned and hunting for food. Foggy was not expecting to open the door and see a tall guy with more muscles than a pro-wrestler holding up a very rumpled and looking slightly high Matt. 

“Here you go, boy,” the man said, all but handing Matt to Foggy. Matt slumped against Foggy, before nibbling on Foggy’s t-shirt. The man chuckled, before turning to Foggy. “He’s had an intense night. Make sure you give him plenty of water, and some food. He’s a cuddler, so indulge him. Don’t want him to Drop, do we?”

“Foggy,” Matt slurred, pressing his face into Foggy’s neck. “Home.”

“Is he supposed to be slurring like this?” Foggy asked. The man shrugged.

“Can happen. Subs are all over the place. One goes down and gets clarity they’ve never had before, others act like they’ve had a shot of heroin.”

“He really doesn’t look good,” Foggy said. Matt was covered in sweat and his eyes weren’t even attempting to track what was going on.

“Like I said, he’s had an intense night. But he enjoyed every second, didn’t you, boy?” The man smacked Matt’s ass. Matt jumped in Foggy’s arms. That whine didn’t sound aroused. “Take good care of him. Don’t want our favourite fucktoy to get broken.”

The man shut the door as he left, so Foggy knew he didn’t see that Foggy was giving him the finger. He knew some Subs liked to get humiliated and talked about like they were some blow up doll, but that didn’t mean Foggy had to like hearing his best friend spoken about like that. 

“You ok, Matt?” Foggy asked. Matt whined. “Right, let’s get you into some comfy clothes.”

It was difficult to undress Matt when Matt would cry out the second they lost physical contact. The t-shirt that Matt was wearing under his jacket was tight, and it very lovingly showed off Matt’s body in a way that made Foggy salivate. At least until he saw how gray Matt looked when Foggy pulled it off. 

Foggy took Matt’s pants off next. His skin had red lines where it looked like something had dug into him. Probably whatever had been used to tie him up. Foggy took a few heaving breaths before he got the courage to pull down Matt’s boxers. He very pointedly did not look at Matt’s half-hard cock. He checked that Matt didn’t need to be washed, but it seemed like he already had been. Foggy didn’t cross himself before spreading Matt’s ass cheeks, though he felt like he needed to.

“Fuck, Matt, they tore you!” Matt whined and clamped his hands over his ear. Foggy whispered his apologies, before helping Matt to lie on his stomach on his bed. Foggy walked back over to his side of the room and grabbed a lotion that was meant to help with such injuries. He had gotten some from the clinic as soon as Matt started going out with more frequency. Foggy did not look at what he was doing and did it as quickly as possible, rubbing a small bit of ointment over Matt’s red hole. When it was done with, Foggy washed his hands furiously and tried not to think of the naked man in his bedroom.

Foggy grabbed a bottle of water from their mini fridge and slowly fed it to an increasingly reluctant Matt. They only got halfway through the bottle before Matt pulled away, refusing to drink anymore. Foggy set the bottle down and tried to pull a blanket over Matt. Matt cried out as if he was in pain and pushed the blanket off him, leaving Foggy with a full view of a very naked and very hard Matt.

Matt wasn’t staring at Foggy. His eyes weren’t even pointing in Foggy’s direction. So it was even more startling when Matt was suddenly pulling Foggy into a fierce kiss. Foggy grunted, his brain temporarily going offline as he felt his extremely naked best friend writhing beneath him. Matt’s lips were soft and hungry, and his skin beneath Foggy’s hands felt like Foggy was touching a wired fence with all the electricity it was sending through him.

Foggy’s brain did eventually come back online and when it did it _really_ came back online. Foggy wrenched back, trying to push Matt away from him but Matt wouldn’t budge. He shoved harder, his brain screaming about how _not okay_ Matt was right now. Matt was so _not okay_ that it only took three shoves for him to fall back down onto his bed. Even then Matt reached up and started to pull at Foggy’s clothes. Foggy grabbed Matt’s wrists and held them down onto the bed, staring down at Matt’s wild face. 

The simple act of holding him down had made Matt come between them. 

Matt’s lip wobbled. Foggy shushed him, smoothing down Matt’s hair with one hand and rubbing circles into Matt’s wrist with the other. Whatever happened that night, Matt must have had one orgasm too many, because he passed out less than a minute after he spent all over Foggy’s jeans.

Foggy sat in silence, feeling Matt’s come drying on his pants. Matt curled in on himself in his sleep, still whining occasionally. There was a light outside shining on them, making Matt look like he was dripping. Foggy sat frozen until the first signs of dawn came through the window, before pulling a sheet and comforter over Matt and kissing his brow. 

He had only managed to scrape a couple of hours of sleep by the time his alarm rang for his morning classes. Matt was still out cold. It didn’t look like he had moved since Foggy pulled the covers over him. Foggy made himself an extra strong coffee and Matt a sweet tea, leaving it on Matt’s bedside table for when he woke up.

Foggy had difficulty concentrating all day. It was a Thursday, which was an easy day for Matt but managed to block out almost the entire day in classes for Foggy. He had two lectures in the morning, and then a DyPsych lab followed by a couple of hours volunteering at the clinic. It was never a breeze, but usually Foggy enjoyed the crunch of the day before relaxing into his three day weekend. That Thursday, though, Foggy was so out of it he went to the wrong class, and was late to his clinic duties. He knew his notes were going to be gibberish, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to make better ones.

Doctor Ramirez let him go half an hour early, claiming that it was a quiet day so he should go home and relax. Foggy hoped he hadn’t embarrassed himself too much in his half asleep state. He stumbled back to the dorm, rubbing his eyes. When he got in, Matt’s bed was empty and Foggy could hear the shower running. Matt’s duvet was in a lump outside of the bathroom door.

Foggy had planned to just leave Matt to it, but it had been almost an hour since he had gotten home and the shower was still running. It wasn’t exactly the done thing, but Matt hadn’t looked so good last night. Hey, if he was fine, then Foggy could just say it was a mistake and they would get over the awkwardness tomorrow.

The door was unlocked, which wasn’t a good sign. Matt liked his privacy, and honestly if Foggy had grown up in an orphanage he probably would have been a stickler for locking the bathroom door as well. Foggy pulled the door open and stepped inside.

Even though the shower had been going for ages, there was no steam in the bathroom. It was a college dorm-- the hot water only lasted for so long. The shower was on full blast, which was almost deafening for Foggy and must have been--

He found Matt curled on the shower floor. He reached out to touch Matt’s leg (the water was stone cold, Matt must have been freezing). Matt curled further in on himself. Already regretting it, Foggy crawled under the shower spray until he reached the corner Matt was curled in. His clothes soaked through to his skin immediately.

“I’m here,” Foggy said, even though no one would be able to hear him over the sound of the shower. He wrapped his arms around Matt and pulled them tightly together. “I’m here.”

\---

Foggy was a pro at aftercare. One time at the clinic a Sub came in with a Drop on his heels because some Dom had practically thrown him under and then kicked him out on the street, and Foggy had helped. He had held the poor guy and fed him mouthfuls of fruit while they cuddled and watched Friends reruns. Actually being able to see a Sub come out of a Drop, and watch their vitals improve and hormone levels stabilize was almost enough to make Foggy switch career plans (of course, he also wanted to track down the Dom and at the very least sue him for emotional distress, so maybe not that much). 

Doctor Benoit has offered Foggy his card in case Foggy ever decided to train as a Therapy Dom anyway.

That was why Foggy’s hook-ups always ended up going for a little longer than usual. A lot longer than usual. Okay, so it was the afternoon after and he and Ryan were still cuddling in bed, whatever. Neither of them had any lectures, and they were quizzing each other on their Dy-Psych exam by using blowjobs as a reward. It was productive.

“Your roommate’s still not back,” Ryan said. 

Matt hadn’t come home the night before. Foggy had texted the second he woke up and realised the bed on the other side of their room was empty, and had gotten a reply saying Matt was out. He hoped that maybe Matt had hit it off with a co-ed and was also getting in some snuggles. He knew better, though.

“Yeah, sometimes he stays out. And he never comes in when I’m with someone, even though I never put a sock on the door. It’s magical, really.”

“Ugh, jealous. Angus once walked in right when I was about to come.” Ryan reached over to the night stand and drank some of the water Foggy had given him. The angle gave Foggy a very nice view of the tanned skin of Ryan’s back, smooth and untouched except for the hickeys lining his spine. “It was very awkward.”

“Matt’s great with that stuff,” Foggy said. Ryan hummed and scooted back under the covers. Foggy wrapped his arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “It actually makes me a bit more self conscious.”

“He’s never asked you why you take extra long showers?” Ryan asked, his nose twitching as he smiled. Fuck if he wasn’t adorable sometimes. “He’s Catholic, right? Those guys get, like, no sex ed.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve never had to educate Matt on the birds and the bees,” Foggy said. “Apparently the nuns brought a doctor in to do the important stuff, but all the details got filled in by a super old and traditional Sister.”

Ryan snorted and shook his head.

“Full habit and all,” Foggy continued, which made Ryan laugh harder until he was wheezing. 

“How do people have sex after that?” Ryan wheezed.

“Well, the Church is very abstinence centric, so that’s probably the point.” Foggy coughed and began his best Maggie Smith in _Sister Act_. “We know that you are all, as they say, horny as hell, so we will eternally associate sex with the least sexy thing in existence. Try and get an erection now, suckers!”

Ryan bent over, cackling. Foggy pulled him close and nibbled at his shoulder blade.

“I’d love to meet him sometime, he sounds fun,” Ryan said. He reached down and grabbed Foggy’s hand. “You asked him out yet?”

Foggy stopped his nibbling.

“No? Why-- why would I? I mean, we’re just friends, he’s my roommate, and I’m pretty sure I’m not his type--”

“You’re definitely his type,” Ryan said. “Everyone sees the way he looks at you--”

“Bit hard for Matt to look at anything--”

“Oh, hush, you know what I mean. He’s happy when he’s around you. And I’ve been reliably informed that he’s not a very happy person. Some people have even called him smitten.” Ryan turned around so that he was looking directly at Foggy. Almost as if he was trying to drive home a point or something. Well, joke’s on him, Foggy trained himself out of the persuasiveness of eye contact the second Candace discovered the puppy dog technique.

“Well, people would be wrong.” Foggy sat back against his headboard. Which gave him a perfect view of Matt’s empty bed. Damn it. “I’ve seen Matt in love, and he certainly doesn’t act that way around me. We’re not compatible in any way.”

“Oh yeah, you’re just best friends who spend all of your time together and communicate in vague noises and didn’t you even grow up on the same block?” 

“I’m not the type of Dom Matt needs,” Foggy growled. Ryan froze, his eyebrows slowly raising. Shit.

“Matt’s a Sub?” Ryan asked quietly. “But he… How does no one know?”

“He’s not a particularly subby Sub,” Foggy replied. “Hell, I didn’t know until the end of our first year.”

Ryan frowned. He brought his knees up to his chest, and Foggy did a quick scan to make sure it was a ‘thinking’ pose and not a ‘distressed’ pose. 

“He’s really a Sub?” Ryan asked. 

“Really.” Foggy turned so he was facing Ryan. “What’s so weird about that?”

“Nothing,” Ryan said, rubbing his arm. “I just thought… no, it’s nothing.”

Foggy didn’t press, and Ryan left that evening without telling him what ‘nothing’ was. It was very clearly something, though, because every time they saw each other on campus afterwards Ryan was friendly, but not flirty, and the one time Foggy asked if Ryan wanted to come back to Foggy’s dorm he only got a sad smile and a soft no. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to yell at me in the comments about how I ruined your evening (or morning, or afternoon, or even your entire day!) 
> 
> Next Time: We finally earn that E rating!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a lot worse for our boys. But also sex?
> 
> Edit: Someone brought it to my attention that this could probably do with a dub-con warning. This is a universe where sexual acts are biologically necessary to help people in certain forms of distress, and therefore this isn't a situation where Foggy and Matt can give full unambiguous consent. Their other option is for Matt to be hospitalized, which Matt refuses.

The universe was out to get him. The universe had stuck a ‘kick me’ sign to the back of one Franklin ‘Foggy’ Nelson, and everyone was getting a turn. His laptop had decided to crash, and while it was fixable it was going to take at least two weeks so Foggy was stuck using the library computers. Except those were slow as shit, especially when everyone was on the system trying to upload their course work before the deadlines closed. Foggy had managed to get half of his paper in before the connection timed out and he was forced to do it all again. Then, to add salt to the wound, he’d walked in on a couple schtupping in the college bathroom. A couple that just so happened to include Marci.

He hated midterms.

By the time he got back to his dorm room, it was 11 and his body felt ready to collapse. He had a couple of days break before he would need to finish his paper on the Supreme Court ruling on Submissives to have full independent rights of their Dominants in ‘56, and he was nearly done anyway. 

After the fourth try, Foggy managed to get his damn key into the lock and open the door. It was dark, so he hadn’t realised Matt was crouching on the floor until he turned the light on. He understood why Matt never turned the lights on, and when they got their own apartment it would do wonders at keeping the power bills down, but it still creeped him out to go from pitch black darkness to seeing Matt just going about his life. Matt always seemed just a bit more comfortable in shadow.

“I hate the university computers. You would think they would have built something faster by now.” Matt didn’t reply. Foggy stripped of his outdoor wear, staring lovingly at his bed. “Considering the amount of tech students we have. Who am I kidding, they’d never share their wisdom with us plebs-- Matt, you okay?”

Foggy hadn’t been able to tell when he came in, but Matt wasn’t actually reading any of the books he was surrounded by. He was rocking back and forth and muttering, too. His skin was eerily pale, and Foggy could see sweat rolling down his face. Oh, _shit._

“Matt, I’m going to touch you now,” Foggy said, approaching Matt carefully. He reached out and placed his hands on Matt’s shoulders. As soon as contact was made, however, Matt practically jumped out of his skin, his head swinging around as if he was trying to figure out where he was. Shit, shit, shit. “Matt, can you tell me what you’re feeling?”

“Foggy?” Matt asked, his words slurring.

“Yeah, buddy. I’m right here. I need you to give me a status report, okay? Are you going under?” 

Matt shook his head. His mouth opened and closed, then began to form words that Matt didn’t voice and Foggy couldn’t understand. He shut his mouth again, swallowed, and said: “Drowning. I’m drowning.”

“Okay, Matt. That’s good, thank you,” Foggy released one of Matt’s shoulders to grab his cell phone from his pocket. “Matt, you’ve Dropped. I’m going to call DHS so that we can get you to a doctor.”

“No!” Matt sprung forward and pushed the phone out of Foggy’s hand. Even mid-Subdrop, Matt was strong. “No Doctors… no doctors…”

Matt collapsed against Foggy, continuing to plead for Foggy not to call for help. He was shivering like he had the flu, and it was clear that Matt needed immediate intervention. His health was probably already compromised. Foggy turned to see if his phone was reachable with Matt’s weight pinned against him, but when he looked over he saw that it had come apart when Matt threw it. It wasn’t broken, at least, but he would have to get the battery back in to use it and there was no way Matt was going to let him do that. 

There was only one option. Matt was sniffling, his pleading still going, and Foggy had never been entirely clear on how Drop-Induced Shock worked but there was a reason human society had developed in order to prevent it. 

“Matt,” Foggy said, his voice shaky as hell and still sounding more confident than he was. All of his dreams about this moment involved Matt lucid, enthusiastic, snarking at Foggy before sticking out his bubble butt for a smack. Not this. 

“Matt, I’m so sorry. We’re going to get up now, okay?” Foggy tried to move, but Matt didn’t. Foggy moaned, and pressed a kiss in apology to Matt’s head. Then he pulled out the most dominant voice he could. “Sub, get on the bed.”

Matt’s head snapped up, and he scrambled to move. And it was a scramble: Matt’s limbs clearly weren’t working properly and he kneed Foggy several times. When he at least had leverage to get up, Foggy grabbed Matt’s waist and pulled them both to their feet. Matt swayed as Foggy held him, and Foggy quickly moved them onto his bed. Him, sitting. Matt, sprawled face down on his lap. Everything he ever wanted in the way he never wanted it.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Sub. I am going to remove your pants and swat you twenty times for disobeying my order, throwing my phone, and refusing to take care of yourself. Then I’m going to finger you until you pass out, do you understand?”

There was silence, except for their heavy breathing and the occasional whine from Matt. Matt shuffled in Foggy’s lap.

“Foggy?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, Matt?” Foggy knew better than to think Matt was genuinely lucid.

“Help me,” Matt begged.

“That’s what I’m doing, buddy. Let’s get your hips up.” Matt could only barely raise his hips out of Foggy’s lap, so it was a struggle to get his jeans off. And then Foggy was staring down at Matt’s plain boxers, and running his finger under the waistband. He decided to take a note out of Matt’s playbook and think a quick prayer, though he doubted Matt would want the big guy involved in this. Before he could lose his nerve, Foggy pulled down Matt’s boxers.

Matt was beautiful, lying in Foggy’s lap with his ass bare to the wind. But even here, Matt’s skin was gray and clammy. Matt shuffled again, and for a hysterical second Foggy wondered if Matt was going to come to his senses and run away from Foggy and end up dead and half naked in the hallway. But instead Matt slowly moved his arms until his wrists were crossed behind his back. 

“Okay, buddy, I’ve got you.” Foggy managed to grasp both wrists tightly in one hand, and that did not say good things about how much Matt was eating. One freak out at a time, Nelson. One at a time. “I know it’s hard, but I want you to try and count the spanks for me, okay? I need to get you as lucid as possible.”

Foggy wasn’t even sure Matt heard him, but he was getting worse so it was now or never. Foggy took a deep breath and gave a solid smack to Matt’s left asscheek. The shoe had dropped. They were silent, Foggy feeling the burn on his palm, the feeling of Matt’s flesh beneath it burned there permanently no matter how brief the touch had been. Matt’s skin turned pink where Foggy had touched it. And then:

“O-one…” Matt whispered. Foggy smacked him again, right cheek this time. Matt’s voice became steadier. “Two…”

Foggy always had a clear spanking rhythm-- left, right, both. Left, right, both. He only gave spankings to induce subspace, and he found that a steady rhythm was the best way to do that. Matt’s voice was still weak, and a couple of times he miscounted, but Foggy always kept track to make sure he didn’t give Matt more spankings than he promised. Breaking Matt’s confidence that soon would end in disaster. 

Foggy stopped when Matt groaned out a seventeen, resting his palm against Matt’s burning flesh. Halfway through, Foggy had noticed that Matt’s ass would bounce with every swat, and Foggy hated how hard it made him. Matt made a small confused noise.

“That’s twenty, baby. You did so well.” Foggy rubbed his hand back and forth. “You took it so beautifully. You’re such a good boy, Matt. Such a good boy.”

Matt slumped at the praise. Foggy kept doing it until Matt’s breathing began to steady. His colour was beginning to look better, definitely not healthy but not on the verge of shutting down anymore. 

Foggy removed his hand from Matt’s ass and leaned forward to pull open the top drawer of his bedside table. He grabbed a condom and his bottle of lube, before leaning back. 

“Time for your fingering, bud. I’m going to put the condom on you so it’s less clean up, okay?” Matt grunted, and Foggy carefully opened the packet. He reached under Matt and slowly rolled the condom over Matt’s cock. When Matt was settled back in Foggy’s lap, Foggy squeezed some lube onto his index finger. He reached down and took a deep breath before pressing his finger against Matt’s hole.

Matt’s breath stuttered. Foggy didn’t put his finger in immediately, taking the time to massage Matt’s hole. It fluttered underneath his finger, and while Foggy could tell Matt wasn’t a virgin he still seemed to be tight. Foggy continued to rub until Matt’s hips began to rock against Foggy’s finger. Deciding that meant Matt was ready, Foggy thrust his finger all the way in.

Fuck, Matt was so warm inside. So tight around Foggy’s finger. Foggy drew his finger back until only the tip was in, and then thrust it back inside. Matt’s walls twitched around him. Foggy thrust his finger in and out, listening to Matt’s soft pants as he did it. He lost track of time, stroking Matt’s wrists while he thrust his finger inside that heat. 

Matt’s hole slackened around Foggy’s finger and he slowly drew it out. Foggy added more lube, this time covering his middle finger with it as well. He entered the two fingers slowly, and Matt’s breath hitched as they went in. Foggy continued to shift his fingers slowly, pushing them as deeply as possible but making no move to search for Matt’s prostate. He knew the repetitive motion was likely more important than the actual pleasure Matt got from it.

When once again Matt’s hole went loose, Foggy added more lube and another finger. Matt was lazily rocking his hips, and although Foggy could feel how hard he was, Matt made no move to grind against Foggy. His focus seemed to be entirely on the fingers inside of him. 

Foggy pulled his gaze away from Matt’s hole to look at his face. Matt’s lips were parted, the duvet beneath them wet with drool. They hadn’t removed Matt’s glasses so they must have been painfully digging into his face by now, but Matt didn’t seem to notice. Matt didn’t seem to notice anything. Foggy wasn’t even sure Matt was still conscious.

Foggy continued to rock his hand, switching which hand was inside Matt and which was holding Matt’s wrists when his hand began to cramp. A thought crossed his mind that they were going to have to get a dildo, and he didn’t know whether it would be wrong to laugh at the thought of Matt wanting to do this with Foggy again. No, Foggy would get Matt taken care of, and then apologise and hope that at some point Matt would forgive him. 

It was early morning before Matt shuddered and Foggy felt the warmth against his leg of Matt filling to condom. Matt had long since fallen into a doze but with that he finally slumped into sleep. Foggy grabbed some tissues and first wiped his hands of lube, then Matt’s hole, before turning Matt over and removing the condom. He wiped away what the condom leaked and threw it all into the bin. 

He changed into his pajamas and considered getting Matt some clothes, deciding to help Matt into one of Foggy’s sweatshirts that Matt pretended not to brush every time Foggy wore it. Foggy crawled into bed beside Matt, pulling the covers around them. Matt looked comfortable in his sleep, and back to normal, which meant that Matt’s normal was probably everyone else’s catastrophe.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” Foggy said, and began to get his phone back into working order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Time: Bad science and guilt


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, folks! The end of the first installment!

Foggy woke up with an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he had gone to bed anxious. He just couldn’t remember why. Instead, his attention was consumed by the warm body rubbing up against his cock and the breathy moans said body was making. Foggy was wrapped around the other person in his bed, and this person was making noises as if Foggy was pounding into them.

“Matt…” Foggy groaned. Matt kept moving, but twisted his upper body to press his lips against Foggy’s cheek. Clearly it wasn’t what he was aiming for, because he tried again, and again, until he reached Foggy’s lips. Foggy pressed his hand against Matt’s abdomen, feeling like Matt was going to swallow him whole with each press of their lips. It was a wet and open kiss, and they were making some noises that normally Foggy would think was pretty gross but actually seemed kind of nice when Matt was helping him make them.

Why was his heart pounding so loudly? 

Foggy was leaking through his pajama pants. He wanted to pull them down and come over Matt’s back, let Matt soak Foggy’s come into his skin. Matt always complained about how delicate his senses were, maybe he would be able to smell Foggy in his skin for days even after he showered--

Oh no. Oh, fuck.

“Foggy?” Matt asked, chasing after Foggy until Foggy clambered off the bed. Matt was looking _debauched_ on Foggy’s bed, his hair rumpled, the indent of his glasses clear against his cheek, his lips swollen and oh _fuck._

“Foggy, what’s wrong?” Matt asked again. Foggy checked his phone-- 12.30. Well, they’d missed their lecture. Hadn’t missed the appointment though. Foggy began grabbing for his clothes. “Foggy, what did I do?”

Foggy froze. Matt was facing him with wide eyes. It was still a very rare occurrence for Foggy to see Matt without his glasses; he knew how vulnerable Matt felt without them. How he didn’t like how people could see him so clearly. And Foggy could see a hell of a lot, now. Like the fact that Matt was almost fucking crying.

“No, no Matt it’s not you, I promise it’s not you.” Foggy was babbling. He was in the middle of doing up his belt but he abandoned it to race forward and grab Matt’s face in his hands. “You did nothing wrong, okay? You were perfect. You _are_ perfect. I’m the one who’s the problem.”

“Foggy…” Matt said, as if he was humouring him. “I was Dropping. Worse than Dropping. I had fully Dropped. I wanted it, Foggy. Trust me. I’ve always wanted it--” _No,_ Foggy thought. _Please don’t say this, please_. Matt chuckled. “--Maybe not under those exact circumstances, I was hoping that I would at least be lucid, but--”

“--I’ve called DHS,” Foggy cut Matt off, not able to hear any more. Matt’s face froze, his shy smile disappearing. “You have an appointment in an hour.”

“Why?” Matt croaked, sounding painfully young. Sounding even more betrayed than Foggy imagined.

“Because you nearly died last night!” Matt flinched at Foggy’s sudden volume. He tried to be quieter, but ended up sounding more frantic instead. “If I had come home an hour later, you would have gone into shock. If I hadn’t been able to get you into Subspace, you would have died. Just because you’re feeling a bit better now doesn’t change the fact that your body is shutting down!”

“But…” Matt bit his lip, trying to stifle-- he was definitely crying now. Foggy had made Matt cry. “I have you now.”

“Yeah.” Foggy leaned forward. He reached out for Matt, who let him grab his hands but turned his face away. “And that’s why I’m doing this. I don’t know what the hell we are, or if we’re anything now, but I love you, Matt. I love you enough that I would rather you hate me than suffer. I can’t just make you better, Matt. Not without knowing what’s hurting you.”

Foggy was crying now as well. Their precum was still wet on his bed sheets. 

“I’m not crazy,” Matt spat through his tears. “Just because I’m not a simpering Sub begging for a Dom to swoop in and take control of them. I own myself, that doesn’t make me broken!” 

“Submitting-- God, Matt, is that what you think? That submitting makes you weak?”

“Oh, grow up, Foggy.” Foggy recoiled at the venom in Matt’s voice. “Submitting gets people killed. Just because you live in a world of fairy tales where people aren’t waiting for Subs to present so they can adopt them and rape them in the car before they even get to their new home doesn’t mean that’s not reality.”

Matt began to crawl forward, the duvet Foggy had wrapped him in falling down. Foggy could see the muscles rippling underneath his skin (seriously, was Matt always that ripped?). He looked… dangerous. 

“I bared my neck twice and both times got left for dead.” Matt smiled, a twisted thing. “Well, I guess it’s three times now. Little blind boys don’t fare so well in the system. Just imagine what would have happened if I’d let people treat me like a _Sub_.”

“That’s why you’re in pain,” Foggy whispered. Matt froze. “No one was there to help you, so you’ve been eating yourself alive. I bet you’ve been in and out of Drops since your Dad died.”

Matt looked like Foggy had slapped him. Foggy reached forward and wrapped his arms around Matt’s torso, pulling him up so Matt’s head was resting on Foggy’s chest.

“You’ve done so well, surviving.” Foggy rested his hand on the back of Matt’s head. “But you don’t have to do it alone anymore, Matt. Please, let me help you.”

\---

Matt froze outside the doors to the Dynamic Health Centre. Foggy had helped him shower and get dressed in the comfiest clothes Matt owned (which were a pair of sweatpants and Foggy’s old hoodie). His hands clenched around his cane, as if it was chaining him somehow. As if he wanted to throw it away and run. Foggy wrapped his hands around Matt’s.

“I’ve got you, Murdock. In sickness and in health.”

“You make it sound like we’re getting married,” Matt grumbled. 

“You can’t tell, but I’m wearing a white dress over these jeans,” Foggy replied. Matt didn’t laugh, but he did make a slight noise that could have been a laugh. Maybe.

Matt stepped across the threshold into the waiting room. Foggy sat Matt down on one of the curved benches, right beneath a sign advising people to get tested for STDs. Which reminded Foggy that he and Matt should probably do that-- Foggy had never been adverse to the occasional hook up, and Matt had been getting pumped full of bodily fluids from God knows who at the clubs.

“Hi, can I help you?” The girl at the reception was thankfully not anyone Foggy knew. From the looks of her, she probably wasn’t even a student. 

“Hi, yeah, we’ve got an appointment with Doctor Ramirez?” 

“Name?”

“Matthew Murdock.”

The receptionist did some typing, some clicking, and then handed Foggy a card. “Doctor Ramirez is expecting you. Please use this card to walk open the door.”

Foggy thanked her, and ducked back to get Matt on his feet again. They walked to the heavy door leading to the exam rooms, Foggy having to press the card to a keypad in order to get through. Foggy had never understood the level of security in this place, until he saw posters around campus about how Therapy Doms and Subs were just covers for prostitution. 

Doctor Ramirez was in her usual exam room, which she claimed got the best light in the building while also giving her the perfect view of a hibiscus outside. She smiled at Foggy warmly when they entered, and didn’t look offended when Matt didn’t offer his or shake her hand. 

“Would you prefer Mr Murdock, or Matthew?” Doctor Ramirez asked as she led them inside.

“Matt, please.” Matt sounded dead inside.

“Alright, Matt. Foggy has told me about your situation, but I would like to hear it from you, if I could.” They all sat down in some comfy chairs next to Doctor Ramirez’s computer, and definitively ignored the equipment in the corner of the room. 

“I Dropped last night,” Matt said. 

“I understand. Has this happened before?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how many times? Or can you give me a rough estimate?”

“...No.”

“Alright.” Doctor Ramirez leaned back in her chair. “Would you be able to tell me how long you’ve been experiencing Subdrops, or have begun to Drop even if you didn’t fully?”

Matt’s breath stopped in the middle of taking it. “I experienced my first Drop when I was ten. I think… I think I started Dropping when I was younger than that.”

“Ten is a very young age to have a Drop, Matt, which I’m sure you know. You don’t have to elaborate, but am I right to assume it was because of a traumatic experience?”

Matt nodded.

“Alright. Early childhood Drops are not uncommon, although they are rarely talked about. Oftentimes they are the result of an unstable home environment, especially in cases of parental abandonment or bereavement.” Matt winced. Doctor Ramirez either didn’t comment or didn’t notice. Foggy always found it hard to tell with her. “Since you were ten, how frequently would you say you have experienced Drops? Once every few years? Once every year? Multiple times a year?”

“...A full Subdrop?” Matt asked.

“What we term ‘Dropping’ _is_ a Subdrop, Matt. We have for some reason deemed it as less severe than a deeper Drop, even though the smallest Drop is nature’s way of telling us that something is wrong. For some reason, it has to be life-threatening in order to be considered serious. How often would you say you experience any form of Drop?”

“Multiple times a week? Or a day?” Matt answered quietly. Foggy couldn’t help his gasp, which made Matt shrink in on himself even further. 

“Multiple Drops in a week, regularly I assume--” Matt nodded. “-- is a symptom of a severe problem. I would like to run some tests, if you would be willing.”

“What kind of tests?” Matt asked.

“I would like to test your levels of Survitonin production, the chemical--”

“--that regulates Subspace, I know. Why?”

“While there are many reasons that a Submissive may experience frequent and severe Drops, the most common is Dynamic Suppression Syndrome. This is a condition where due to trauma, circumstance, or mental health, someone represses their instincts, sometimes actively fighting against them--”

“Everyone knows what DSS is!” Matt snapped. To her credit, Doctor Ramirez didn’t look surprised. “It’s for abuse victims and punchlines.”

“That’s the problem,” Doctor Ramirez said, sighing. “People have turned it into something that is pitiable, in some, and cause for mockery in others. They love to laugh at a Dom who is so bad at being a Dom not even his own body will listen to him. Never mind soldiers forced to take orders they don’t believe in, or rape victims who feel unworthy of their dominance or unable to submit once it had been forced on them. It’s a very serious illness, usually found in people who have been forced to choose between their instincts or their survival.”

Matt tensed up. Foggy wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but didn’t know if it would be welcomed. 

“It’s treatable, right? You just have to find your inner Sub or some shit?”

“It’s manageable. DSS is usually a lifelong illness, especially because it is so entangled with other facets of your life. It fuses with mental illnesses, trauma, interpersonal relationships. It is the extreme result of a maladaptive coping mechanism. We can teach you different coping mechanisms, help you try and see a different worldview to the one it has given you, and try and regulate your body with regular submission and medication, but it is not something that is overcome. Not completely.”

“What are his options?” Foggy asked.

“While we will have to wait for your test results to confirm or deny DSS, my expectations are that you will be producing a very low amount of Survitonin. While that is just a symptom of a larger issue, it is a very damaging symptom and it is very difficult to provide treatment without increasing your Survitonin production. The two methods of doing this are medication and regular submission. While some people choose or can only have one or the other, the best method is to have a light medication regime in order to help your body submit, and regular submission to keep the Survitonin regulated. It’s like a muscle; the more you use it, the better you use it, the stronger it gets.”

“I’ve taken artificial Survitonin before,” Matt muttered. He screwed his face up. “I didn’t like it.”

“It wouldn’t be for long. If you were to take medication now, it would help ease you into submitting. Once you start producing Survitonin naturally, your need for medication will decrease. It would require that you require regular submission, possibly three or four times a week. Depending on your temperament, a 24/7 lifestyle even. If you don’t have a Dominant, we have a variety of Therapy Doms that are an option for you.”

“What if I were to, um. Have a Dominant.” Matt turned his head toward Foggy. Foggy felt his heartbeat quicken, and the slightest flicker of hope break through. Doctor Ramirez nodded, but Foggy could see the twinkle in her eyes that she got when she smiled.

“Then we can plan for that option.”

\---

“I can’t believe Church has been making me submit enough to literally keep me alive.” Matt lay on his bed, his arms crossed across his chest. He had had his first therapy session, now that he had his official diagnosis.

“Well,” Foggy said, tossing a crisp into his mouth. “‘Forgive me father for I have sinned’ and ‘Daddy, I’ve been bad’ are two sides of the same coin.”

Matt sat up and threw his pillow at Foggy with impressive aim. Foggy laughed as it hit him in the chest.

“I’m not calling you Daddy,” Matt grumbled. “There was a guy in the clubs who would get me to do that. Definitely not happening again.”

“Yeah, no kinkshaming but I’m barely older than you, that’d be weird. No, from now on you must call me ‘His Royal Awesomeness Foggy Nelson!’”

Matt laughed, clutching his stomach. “His Royal Awesomeness? Oh yes, Royal Awesomeness. Harder, Royal Awesomeness. Right there, Royal, right there!”

“Don’t be moaning it like that, man!” He threw the pillow back at Matt. “Now I’m going to actually get turned on by it!”

Matt laughed so hard he genuinely snorted. It was the cutest thing Foggy had ever seen.

“I’m going to be fucked by a guy in a robe!”

“In a robe. With a sceptre. And everytime I come I’ll award points like it’s Whose Line is it Anyway.”

“Oh yeah,” Matt moaned. “That’s what I’ve always wanted. Fuck me in your crown, Royal Awesomeness.” Matt broke off laughing.

“Are you mocking your King?” Foggy asked, doing his best Brian Blessed impression. He lunged off his bed and grabbed for Matt’s ankle. Matt squealed.

“Of course not, my liege!”

There was a loud banging on their wall, followed by some muffled yelling. Matt burst out laughing again. 

“Sorry!” Foggy yelled back, before taking the opportunity to straddle Matt. “Aha, I have captured you! Now, I shall show you what we do to peasants who dare mock their wonderful, beautiful, and virile King!”

They ended up making out on the floor beside Matt’s bed, and by the end of it Foggy had a new DnD character to play with. All in all, it was a wonderful morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for joining the ride! While this fic is complete, it is only part of a long series coming so please subscribe to 'Taking Care of You' if you haven't already. The next fic needs a fair bit of work before it is posted and I'm in for a busy week so it might be delayed, but by and large the posting schedule should be once a week or so.
> 
> The reception to this fic has been lovely! I've never had so many people read a fic of mine so quickly! Tbf, that's the joy of writing for a fandom with more than ten people but shhhhh. Feel free to leave any comments or suggestions of kinks/scenarios you would like to see (I can't promise that I will do many/any, but my muse is like a magpie and loves a bit of shiny). I've got everything nailed down plot wise, but the fun parts can eternally be added onto ;). 
> 
> See you next time!
> 
> (And yes, I stole the 'Father I have sinned/Daddy I've been bad' joke from tumblr, but lbr if any characters would have that conversation it would be these two).


End file.
